


Tight Hold

by unholy_this



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Bestiality, Blood, Graphic Rape, Human fluids, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Near Drownings, Other, Tentacles, Vomit, very self-indulgent much noncon fantasy wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27139990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unholy_this/pseuds/unholy_this
Summary: Every day, I stray further from god.Aka shamelessly self-indulgent Krakillian non-con smut.
Relationships: Krakillian, background CS
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As I say in the tags and in the summary, this is super self-indulgent. I wrote it without any concern about structure or continuity, I just wrote what I wanted and went all out.
> 
> This story is kinda referencing [my first Krakillian story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10634751), though you don’t need to know much from it other than that the Kraken and Killian have history together, which includes intercourse of both consensual and non-consensual nature. Though if you're into that stuff, hey, you should read that too ;)

Kraken-san couldn't hold himself any longer.

He'd thought his revenge on the human would've been enough. And in a way, it had been.

But now, he just wanted _him_. He just wanted to have him, and the thought of what the human had done to him before only fueled his desire.

So Kraken-san left his wet cave and went in search for his human.

It didn't take him long. Once again, the human was standing near the sea. So predictable.

Without wasting any more time, Kraken-san spread his tentacles and wrapped two around his human. The human tried to resist, to get away, but Kraken-san knew how strong his hold was.

Then a bright light appeared from the human's hand. Kraken-san looked; one of the human's rings was shining bright. Right then, a female human appeared, holding onto the tentacle that held the human. The female shrieked, then threw a blast of magic at Kraken-san.

Kraken-san yelled, but more in annoyance than pain. He was too strong for petty magic tricks. Grabbing the female with another tentacle, he threw her away, not caring where she landed. His human screamed, probably for her, and he was distracted long enough for Kraken-san to grab his hand and carefully, using his smallest, daintiest tentacles, to remove the human's rings from his fingers. Couldn't risk any of them having magic too, could he?

Kraken-san grabbed the human hard and submerged. He knew his human wouldn't make it long underwater, so Kraken-san rushed to his cave, letting his human out each few seconds to replenish his breath. Kraken-san swam fast, so soon enough they were in his cave. He placed the human on a small - for him, the human would have enough space - rock surface that was high enough to stay dry, even when tide was high.

All the while, the human thrashed and screamed. No matter. No-one would hear him now.

Kraken-san used his dainty tentacles again to remove the human's clothes - the bigger tentacles had to restrain him, he was that wildly trying to get away. He threw everything in the water, but he couldn't take that black thing with that hook attached off him, it seemed to be too tightly wound around the human's arm, and despite the pain Kraken-san intended to cause him, he didn't want to cause any permanent damage. Not so soon, at least.

He let the human go, and the human started moving his arm around, trying to slash him with his hook. Poor human. He had no idea what little damage that tiny prick would do to Kraken-san's thick skin. So he let him keep it for now, perhaps it would keep him quiet for a while.

Still, Kraken-san had to attend to his human's needs. He'd need sustenance, and water - that sweet water emerging from rivers. In his centuries he'd spent searching for him, he had learned a lot about the survival of humans. Kraken-san dipped his tentacles in the water, grabbed three fish and threw them in front of the human. The human curled in on himself, watching at the writhing fish in front of him as if he were scared of them.

Huh. For a creature with such a strong instinct for survival, he certainly didn't seem too happy to have one of his needs covered.

Satisfied with his human's conditions, Kraken-san left to get him sweet water. How would he carry it though? He needed something solid to carry it in.

He turned to the direction he'd taken his human from. The bottom of the sea there seemed full of useless things he'd never seen before, perhaps the humans had invented something that would help in that.

But first, he had to make sure no-one would take his human away.

* * *

When the kraken left, Killian finally allowed himself a shiver that rocked his entire body.

What had happened? What did it want with him? Was that the same kraken that... ?

No. He didn't have time to think about that. Killian threw one last look at the fish the kraken had discarded next to him - why, Killian had no idea - and dived in the water. The cave was a bit dark; there was an opening high above that allowed for some light to come in, but the waters were too dark for him to search for his clothes. What he really needed had been thrown away in the Storybrooke harbor, anyway. His only hope was finding someone and calling for help, but even without that, he wasn't simply going to stay in that cave.

He reached the end of it, where he'd seen the kraken submerge, and tried to look for any exit. There must have been one. The water was stark clear, enough for Killian to see the bottom, but it was too dark to make out any significant difference in the rock formation.

Deciding he'd rather die from drowning trying to get away, than from whatever the kraken had in mind for him, he took a deep breath and dived in.

Even after eight unsuccessful dives, Killian couldn't find any opening. He was tired, he couldn't hold his breath too long now. The water seemed too deep, too; even if he had the breath to find an opening, considering its possible depth, he might not have the time to get to the surface before he ran out.

He looked back at the rock surface he'd been placed upon. What other choices did he have?

Not many, was his last thought before he felt the waters move. Quicker than he had expected, the kraken was back. It turned to him, let out what Killian interpreted as a growl, then grabbed him and put him back on the rocks. By now Killian was too tired to fight back. He was surprised, however, to see the kraken move towards the high opening and reach out with its tentacles. It came back, apparently holding... two buckets? It placed them on the rock surface, close to Killian, and he couldn't help himself; he walked forward to see what it was in there.

He frowned when he realized it was just water. Plain water - why would the kraken bring them from above instead of under-

A shiver ran down Killian's spine at a thought, as he looked at the discarded fish as well. It couldn't be...

Not knowing exactly what to expect, Killian knelt and sniffed the water. A faint scent of mud seemed to come from it, but there was only one way for him to be sure. Shaking his hand to dry it from the sea water, he took a handful of water from the bucket. It had a light but miserable tint of brown.

Deciding that the day was already too crazy to handle, Killian sipped the water. He coughed, shock both from the dirty water and of the realization creeping in. Sure, it wasn’t too salty to drink. But was he expected to drink muddy water brought in in rusty old buckets?!

Yelling in anger, Killian pushed both buckets in the sea, then kicked the dead fish in as well.

The kraken seemed to be looking at him, but it was silent. A tentacle rose and struck him, knocking him to the side. Killian gasped as he raised himself on his elbows, shocked by the sudden attack. Two more tentacles appeared and dropped two new, fresh fish on the rock. Before they had time to suffocate, Killian kicked them in as well.

Was the kraken trying to provide... sustenance? Was it trying to keep him alive? What for?

The kraken stayed silent. It fished out the two buckets, threw one single fish on the rock, then left.

Killian shivered, sitting down, looking at the fish in front of him flop and flail, until it stopped moving too.

The kraken wanted to keep him fed and hydrated. In a poor way, but still. Killian looked around the cave. It might be the kraken's home, but it was in no way hospitable to a human. And the kraken knew that, and... Killian bit his lip, tasting the salt left on it, remembering of the time he had allowed the kraken to... do what it did; it had never brought him to such an uncomfortable for him place. Nor had it kept him truly a prisoner... not like that, anyway. And now it was trying to make sure he would survive?

Killian looked at the dead fish, and thought of how the water had tasted. He'd had a hard life, but he hadn't had to resort to eating raw fish and drinking muddy water. Not in centuries, anyway.

The kraken wanted him to survive.

But under such circumstances, how long was Killian going to?

* * *

It didn't take long for the kraken to come back. However, this time, it didn't seem to waste any time.

Killian first saw the surface of the water move; seconds after, the kraken emerged. It put the buckets down on the rock, then wrapped a big tentacle around Killian's torso, and one around each of his ankles, pulling his legs apart.

Killian groaned, writhing in the tight hold of the tentacles, but the kraken didn't wait. One smooth, thin tentacle slipped inside him. Killian's agonized cry echoed in the vast cave.

It kept him immobilized on the ground, keeping his legs apart as it violated him. Waves swayed the surface as the kraken moved and... moaned.

Killian managed to keep himself from screaming, though not from sobbing softly; besides the first penetration, the pain was... measurable. He kept his head down, feeling tears fall from his eyes to the cold, rough rock under him.

He thought of Emma. She had seen the kraken take him away. Though it had thrown her away with force, she seemed to have landed safely on the pier. She hadn't known of his past with it - despite all the secrets he had revealed to her, this one was not one he ever thought he'd have the courage to share - but she would be coming for him. But how long would it take her? The kraken had seemed to travel fast. They'd need a locator spell, with one of his belongings...

He closed his eyes. His rings. His wedding ring, and the one Emma had enchanted so he could call her whenever or wherever he needed her, sunk to the bottom of Storybrooke's harbor. Despite the tentacle that shook inside him, he could still feel the weight of those material losses.

A shaky sob escaped him. He had to get out.

That thought echoed in his head immediately, as the kraken let out a loud moan, and finally let him go. The hold had been useless anyway; he was in too much pain and shock, and was frankly too weak compared to the beast to actually do it any damage, or resist, or run away. Slowly, the kraken took its tentacle out of him. Killian whimpered in pain, trying to move his hand to assess the damage. Sure enough, his fingers came back bloody. He sighed shakily and turned to his side, facing the cave. The dead fish and the buckets were still there; the kraken seemed to be floating, calm, satisfied.

It wasn't going to leave, Killian realized with a shiver.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, suddenly aware of his brace. It was currently the only semblance of clothing he had, too tight wound around his arm for the kraken to bother taking off. He loathed to part with it, but he'd soon have to, to allow the scar tissue to breathe. Otherwise, he'd have to add gangrene to the pile of threats to his life.

Later, he thought, as he closed his eyes. He was so tired, but the cave was too cold and the kraken's presence there kept him too alert to allow him any sleep. Maybe if he showed it he was cooperating? But how? Eat the raw fish and drink the dirty water?

Another shiver ran down his spine as he thought how desperate he'd have to become for food and water to resort to consuming those... and how the kraken seemed prepared to wait until he reached that point.

Time seemed to pass. It had been early afternoon when he'd last been in Storybrooke, and as he dared open his eyes a little, he saw the sky getting darker. It would soon get even colder... was the kraken prepared for that?

Killian closed his eyes and tried to focus on calming thoughts. Emma, coming for him. Him waking up and realizing it was all just another nightmare. Yes, that helped. He would soon wake up in the comfort of his soft, warm bed, Emma's arm wrapping around him as she would whisper sweet words to help him go back to a calmer sleep.

His eyelids were still closed, but he could feel the light slowly fade away. Soon enough, his teeth started chattering. He chanced a look; all of his body hair were raised, shivers starting to spread through his body. He rubbed his only hand against his shoulder, feeling completely helpless.

A sudden move from the corner where the kraken was resting made him jolt. He gasped and moved back, standing up on shaky legs and limping to the rock wall of the cave. Too many tentacles emerged from the water, too many... Killian couldn't bite back a terrified sob, freezing against the wall as his legs finally gave up and he fell awkwardly to the ground.

One tentacle wrapped around his shins, locking them together. Another around his thighs. His hips, his waist, his chest, even bringing his arms close to be wrapped under it, against his chest. Killian started sobbing; it might as well squeeze the air out of him now.

Instead, the kraken spread one tentacle on the rock, then moved the rest to make him lie on his side, his head resting on the soft but firm tissue.

Killian looked at it, sobs still shaking his body and tears still falling from his eyes. The kraken simply seemed to be relaxing back on another rock, now closer to him.

The shock and fear disoriented him for a bit; he felt as if he'd pass out, but eventually he felt his body stop shaking - from the cold, at least. His teeth stopped chattering, and despite the pain those tentacles had caused him, they were kind of comfortable to lie on.

Yet another shaky sigh escaped him. It was keeping him warm?

Killian tried to swallow against the unexpected lump in his throat. It took him some long moments to finally breathe normally again, though deeper sobs came this time.

The kraken was... making him comfortable. After kidnapping him, hitting him, violating him, keeping him a prisoner, it was now holding him with what felt like a twisted, fucked-up version of intimacy. The hold was tight enough to keep him from slipping off, but relaxed enough for him to move his arms under him. The sobs felt to be scratching his already irritated throat as he brought his arms to cross over his chest again; he felt a tiny prick of fear at how hard his chest shook.

The kraken didn't seem to react to his outburst. Yet, its mere presence there terrified him even more; he just wanted to be alone, preferred to die of exposure that stay wrapped in the life-saving embrace of that despicable monster.

He pushed his arms against his chest, felt the prick of his hook against his skin, and reminded himself of one name: Emma.

She would be searching. She wouldn't give up. She would save him.

He had to stay alive.

* * *

He awoke in total darkness.

The very first indication that reminded him of his condition, the reality and not the nightmare he'd hoped against hope it would've been, was his aching throat.

The next was the feeling of being trapped. He wasn't suffocating, but he couldn't move, nor turn, anything. He felt frozen in place. He could still drag his arms across his chest, but they stayed stuck to his body, and he suddenly became aware of how stiff he felt.

He took in a shivering breath; for all its efforts, the kraken couldn't warm the air around the cave. It was still damp and cold, especially grating on his sore throat. His lower lip trembled. He was scared of waking the monster up, but if he didn't fall back asleep - he was still surprised he'd managed to the first time - what was he supposed to do?

If the violation, isolation, horrible conditions, possible starvation or dehydration weren't the things that would drive him crazy, the feeling of being trapped in the sleeping kraken's tentacles would. He still felt tired, and several parts of his body hurt, but as his eyes adjusted to the dark, the reflection of the moon from somewhere outside being the only, tiny source of light, he felt more and more vigilant of the kraken. He couldn't close his eyes. He was suddenly reminded of some horror movies he'd watched with Emma; it felt that, if he stopped looking at the monster for one single second, or if he allowed himself one single moment to relax in the dark, it would consume him.

He slowly became aware of his aching muscles, which protested against the confinement. He tried wiggling, regretting it immediately. His whole body seemed to respond to the movement, each separate muscle waking up and complaining after being immobile for who knew how long.

How _long_ had it been? How long did he have until the sun rose... until the kraken woke up... until it violated him again?

A small sob escaped him, and with wide eyes he stared at the kraken, terrified that that small sound had woken it up.

It hadn't, but Killian could not allow himself any sigh of relief. He bit down on his lip, still tasting of salt, and brought his aching arms to push against his chest again. His heart was beating fast.

Killian stared. And stared. And stared.

Until he was certain the light shade on his view of the sky wasn't just in his imagination.


	2. Chapter 2

Killian's eyes were drooping closed - though never actually closing - by the time the kraken finally stirred. He gasped and held his breath, terrified of what may come.

The kraken made a moaning sound and started wiggling its tentacles, including the ones around him. It stopped, suddenly, and Killian felt his heart stop. Then the tentacles squeezed. And squeezed _hard_. Killian whined as his breath was knocked out of him, his whole body protesting, his mind racing with adrenaline. He couldn't breathe, yet his muscles seemed to be begging him to run away.

He left one last, breathless whimper as the tentacles finally relaxed and let him go, gently placing him on the cold rocks. Killian shivered. It was suddenly so cold without something to cover him, the humid morning air feeling as if it was trying to seep into his very bones through his still slightly damp skin. Catching his breath, he watched as the kraken once again threw two fish on the rock, then grabbed the dead fish from the previous day and threw it away, over the high opening of the cave.

Hopelessly, Killian looked around for anything that could hold a fire. He could ignite a fire with his hook and a rock, but there was nothing dry enough to stay lit. His stomach rumbled, but he closed his eyes and shook his head at himself. He'd gone days without food before. He could handle it again, until Emma found him... or he became desperate enough to eat raw fish. He rolled himself onto his stomach and raised to his elbows, wincing as his left wrist protested.

His eyes widened at the sight of his skin. He was covered in marks from suction cups, and there was a tiny spot of blood close to his right shoulder.

The squeezing, he thought. The hook must've injured him, and he probably was too shocked by the lack of breathing to notice the pricking.

He wrapped his hand around his brace. It was a poor excuse for protection, but it was his only one. A sob left him as he considered his options. Even if he had any chance of injuring the beast with it, he had no idea how much damage he could cause, or when the opportunity for it would arise. He held on tighter, as he thought that it probably wasn't worth the dangers of keeping it.

Otherwise, by the time they'd find him, they'd probably have to amputate his entire arm.

Letting out another sob, he undid the buckles of the brace slowly, then whimpered when it slipped from his arm. The tissue was definitely irritated; nothing that should worry him, but it only confirmed his fears that the brace was more dangerous than useful to him right now. Grunting sadly, he turned and crawled, one-handed, to the edge of the rock, and dipped his left arm into the cold, salty water. He shivered, but sighed at the eventual relief.

_Emma, Emma_ , he thought. She was coming for him. He had to stay alive.

His stomach rumbled again, and he looked at the fresh fish with disdain, then back at the kraken, which seemed to be watching him closely. There was no use in throwing the fish away; it would still keep bringing him fresh ones until he ate them. Then he looked at the rusty buckets, feeling his empty stomach turn.

Pulling his arm back, he chanced standing up. His entire body hurt from being immobilized the entire night, and his backside hurt from... that, but once again, he was determined. He put his one foot down and started, but the second he put his weight on it he fell forward, barely managing to stop his fall with his hand. A weak groan left him, then he put his foot down again.

Come on! It shouldn't be this hard...

Though his knees trembled, he managed to stay upright. He walked to the buckets, every single step hurting. The mud seemed to have sat to the bottom, a layer of cleaner-looking water at the top. His tongue and throat felt dry as sandpaper, and water was something he needed for sure if he was to survive. And considering how long the water had been allowed to separate from the mud, it was as clean as it would get. He doubted the kraken would search for a pure spring.

He had to clean his hand first. There was more than enough water in the one bucket for today - if he even managed to drink any amount - so he knelt down, carefully, and dipped his hand into the other bucket to rinse it off the salt and blood from yesterday. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He'd done this before. In desperate times, but he didn't have much of a choice now.

No.

He shook his head and opened his eyes. This was his choice. His choice to survive.

Bracing himself, he took a handful of water from the other bucket and, ignoring its slight brown tint, he gulped it down.

He moaned through his nose. It tasted horrible. He opened his mouth in a desperate attempt to get rid of the taste, somehow. It didn't feel as if his throat felt any better - though, considering his screaming from the previous day, was that really a surprise? He clenched his jaw, took a few breaths, then gulped another handful of water.

He only managed five gulps in total before he felt bile rise in his throat. He put his fist against his closed mouth and breathed hard through his nose, a few whimpers escaping in the attempt to keep himself from throwing up. A fear started creeping in him, that he was doing more damage than good drinking that water, but he had no other option at the moment. His jaw clenched again, he grabbed the buckets and emptied them, hoping the kraken would get the message and go fill them again soon, so that the new batch would have enough time to sit.

He sighed and slowly settled back on his shins, wincing as the pain in his backside spiked again. Though if he were honest, it wasn't the worst he'd had.

A shiver ran down his spine at that thought. Just how much was he supposed to endure? He had been violated by that beast, and yet there he was, thinking that he had had worse.

He wrapped his arms around his torso and curled inwards. His lip started trembling, and for the first time he didn't feel he had any reason to hold back. Maybe it was that his assailant wasn't human; maybe it was his past with it; maybe he was just too tired of it all by now. He started crying softly, keeping his arms tight around him. He winced, almost jolted back when he saw two tentacles raise from the water, but they only picked up the buckets, then the kraken left.

Killian rolled into a tighter ball and allowed himself to weep.

* * *

The kraken didn't take long, but by the time it returned Killian had dragged himself to the wall, resting his side on it. He watched it pick up the buckets from the opening above, then bring them to him.

How did it know? How did it know he needed water, and specifically not sea water? How did it know to make sure the water from the buckets didn't mix with the sea water...

Closing his eyes, already feeling exhausted, his thoughts trailed off. Then he felt something cold and smelly touch his lips and he gasped, opening his eyes and trying to bat whatever it was away.

The kraken had picked up one of the fish, and was now, again, trying to push it to his mouth.

Killian pushed the fish away, but the kraken seemed to insist. He managed to grab it and he threw it back in the water.

"I don't know if you understand me," he said, more dejected than angry, "but I need real food. I can't eat that. If I had a fire..."

He dropped his head. What the bloody hell was he doing?

His hand clenched into a fist as the waters shook with a deep rumbling from the kraken. It raised its tentacles and wrapped one around each of his ankles with force.

"No..." Killian whimpered. Instinctively he tried to crawl away, but yet another tentacle wrapped around his torso, leaving his arms free. He closed his eyes when the kraken forced his legs apart, and resorted himself to preparing for the attack.

It still wasn't enough. A scream tore through his throat, grating on the irritated tissue and echoing through the cave. His hand found a protruding rock on the ground and grabbed it as the tentacle inside him started thrusting. It went harsher this time, and faster. Killian couldn't manage one breath between thrusts. His body jerked forward with every one, his face approaching the ground dangerously. He grabbed at the rock harder, trying to keep whatever resistance he could to avoid having his face scrape against the harsh floor.

He saw tears drop down, leaving small stains on the rock, but he was barely conscious of his own crying. He grunted and whimpered with every thrust. The rock was coming closer and he could see himself collapse on it as it tore and scraped at the skin of his face. Terror rushed through him, keeping his eyes wide open.

The kraken was done quickly. It let go of Killian, who fell down, whimpering and trembling, eyes still wide open. He struggled to take a normal breath; he could feel wetness on his face, but it hadn't been wounded, had it? He reached out with a shaking hand, touching his wet cheeks, but there was no blood. Just then he remembered the tears that were falling from his eyes, he was probably still crying, his mind too focused on other pains to register that.

That time he didn't have the strength to check his backside for blood. He was sure there was, anyway.

He was so tired...

* * *

He opened his eyes, not realizing he had closed them. His body felt stiff again. He was in the fetal position, his head lain uncomfortably on the rock, pulling at the muscles on his neck. Breathing hard, he looked around the cave. The kraken was resting on the rocks close to him, its tentacles relaxed in the water.

Was it sleeping?

He had no way of knowing.

His eyes then turned to a spot of light; as they focused he saw that there was a rock bathed in sunlight, and Killian shivered lightly. He wasn't feeling cold, yet, but the mere need of feeling the sun's warmth on his skin pulled him onto his knees and elbows. Moaning with each crawl-step, he reached the edge of his rock, then gracelessly plopped into the water.

He hissed, struggling to keep his head out of the water, as the salt stung at the hook puncture on his chest and the wounds on his backside. He grabbed the rock, clenching his jaw and breathing hard, trying to console himself with the thought that the sea water was probably good for his injuries.

Keeping his jaw tight to stop himself from making more sounds and waking up the kraken, he turned and swam, using mostly his arms, towards the sunlit rock. Its surface was coarse, with countless small protruding rocks that could likely slice his skin open if he wasn't careful. He climbed up slowly, wincing every time he pushed himself forward with his feet, until he was lying on it, right under the sun's rays.

He closed his eyes.

A few times, he and Emma had lain on the grass of their garden, enjoying the sun, nearly falling asleep next to each other. The grass had been softer, and he had been clothed and able to hear Emma's calm breathing.

It could have been it, couldn't it? Perhaps there were just too many tiny rocks under him. Perhaps it was too hot a day and, after conjuring a protective shield around their house so they wouldn't be seen, they stripped and lay bare on the grass, which dried up under the sun's heat – another reason why it wasn't that soft to lie on. Perhaps he could imagine the sound of the waves as Emma's breathing...

Yet he couldn't find a place to fit his aching body, nothing to explain the pain, serving only to remind him of his reality.

"Where are you?" he whispered as a tear slipped through his closed eyelids.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the first time since he was dragged there that he truly believed he was waking up from a horrible nightmare.

He could still feel the sun on him, eyes squeezing shut against the light; he was lying on something firm, though soft and warm; and he was in need of a bathroom, as he usually was upon waking up in the mornings.

That was his last hope. It crushed inside him as he opened his eyes and saw he was still in that bloody cave. His neck was still stiff, so he couldn't turn to look, but as he felt around with his hand, he was pretty sure he was lying on the kraken's tentacles.

It had grabbed him as he slept and he hadn't even noticed. And once again, it held him as if in a comforting, intimate way, and Killian found himself wiggling away. The tentacles responded immediately, wrapping around his torso and cutting his breath short - though they weren't squeezing; it was only Killian's terror of them that had him gasping, as they moved him back to the first rock.

He lay on his side and elbows, trying to steady his breath as his eyes moved from the suction marks to the bruises around his ankles, where the kraken had grabbed him, on both days.

Both days, he realized. He'd been there for more than 24 hours, and he shivered as the thought of keeping tally marks crossed his mind.

He wouldn't need to, would he? They'd come for him.

A growl in his lower belly suddenly reminded him of his need. He panicked, looking around. The surface he was on wasn't wide enough, he would have to drag himself to the long end to relieve himself somewhere where the scent would - hopefully - not be too close to where he slept.

Unless he dived in again?

He nearly sobbed at the thought of relieving himself in the salt water while being injured _right there_.

Defeated, he dragged himself to the corner.

Of course, the kraken seemed to be watching as he allowed himself to scream through the painful process.

He was whimpering by the time he crawled back to where he usually lay. The water buckets were still there, and he felt a hit of nausea at his instinct to go drink.

Later. He could survive on very little water, couldn't he?

He didn't get one moment of rest before the kraken took out yet another fish and offered it to him, wiggling and all. He didn't have the energy to do more than shake his head and moan a negative response. The kraken could force feed him now for all he cared.

That it tried. The fish was still struggling with its last energy, but the kraken was pushing it against Killian's lips.

Killian felt his eyes close. If it choked him with the fish, he wouldn't even have the energy to realize it.

Perhaps it would be better...

His defiance only showed through his eyes being squeezed shut. _Emma_ , he reminded himself. _Emma, Emma, Emma._

Eventually, the fish fell limp against his lips. For a moment, he looked at it and thought if to the beast, he was just as unimportant as those fish were to both of them. If it would kill him as unceremoniously and pointlessly as it killed those fish.

Then the moment passed, and the kraken growled again.

Killian closed his eyes on his own this time, preparing to relax his body as much as he could. It was still too early...

The tentacle wrapped around his torso once again, but Killian gasped when it actually picked him up, raising him some feet above the ground. It turned him to face the top of the cave, his legs dangling under him and his head falling back. Too far back.

His blood froze when he saw a lean tentacle approach his face.

"No," he said in a hoarse voice. "No, no, no!"

He tried to squirm, to escape, but he was too tired and the position was too uncomfortable. A terrified shriek left him right before the tentacle reached into his mouth, at the same time another tentacle entered him from behind.

He was frozen. His eyes were wide open, though there wasn't much to see with the tentacle so close to his face. The thrusts were synchronized; when one tentacle pulled away, the other pushed deeper.

His face burned. He was only breathing by instinct, and barely so. He was choking on a pungent taste in his mouth, but he was too far away to even begin to imagine why. He wasn't even thinking coherently, only registering the pain - the agony - and the need to breathe.

He _was_ too out of it. He couldn't see, couldn't hear, he even stopped tasting, he only felt the tentacles, as if they were fighting on which would manage to hurt him more.

He was in darkness. There was only pain, and choking, and dizziness, and more darkness...

He felt his body spasm. It only made the pain worse, especially down. But he couldn't think anymore, he didn't have any control left. He only managed to see that he was now facing the sea and a thick, sour substance poured out of his mouth into the water below.

And then there was darkness again.

* * *

He woke up screaming, a small part of his brain still able to be surprised at his throat's ability to do so.

He squirmed again, needing a few seconds to realize he was once again wrapped in the monster's tentacles. Night had fallen again, and cold air run through his ruined throat.

"Bloody hell," he whined. He sobbed as he tried to wrap himself into a ball, to no avail. The tentacles were once again too tight to allow him any movement.

His head throbbed as he went back on that last... what was it? Afternoon? Evening? It wasn't enough that he couldn't drink enough water, he had to also throw up and contribute to dehydration. He still sobbed, hating the tears that fell and took even more water out of him. He turned his head, locating the water buckets in the dim, reflected moonlight. How he wished he could take just a sip. He wouldn't complain about the mud, about the taste, the smell. He just wanted to drink.

His eyes then found the glistening skin of the dead fish. It should've normally dried up, but the air in the cave was so damp that it had no chance to.

By now he wasn't feeling that hungry. He was accustomed to that feeling, having gone that long without food before. It felt like just a bit of an appetite. But it was not the hunger that made him desperate enough to manage eating the bloody thing. If it could satisfy the kraken, enough for it to not rape him again...

At least not in that way, he thought and whimpered. He was already starting to push his limits, he couldn't risk throwing up again.

His eyes closed in defeat as he thought that even if he did as he was told, the kraken would still have its way with him, perhaps as much or more painfully than before... why would it care for him, anyway?

Emma's name floated through his miserable thoughts. He shivered, holding on to his slowly fleeting resolve.

He swallowed hard, still tasting bile and that pungent taste on his dry tongue, finding one last resort; he would eat the fish, drink the water, then give himself one last, desperate attempt to escape.

Nothing would matter anymore if he didn't try...

Or succeed.

* * *

He was dozing off when the kraken stirred. It squeezed him once again, and Killian didn't have any resolve left to keep his pathetic whimpers silent. It set him carefully down on the rocks, as he found his breath and tried to focus; his eyes didn't seem to want to stay open.

He heard the by now distinctive sound of dead fish being thrown in the water far from him, then of two more wiggling on the rock.

His stomach turned as he remembered his plan to eat, in hopes of the kraken being less violent that time.

He whimpered again and forced his eyes open. He rolled onto his stomach and used his arms to drag himself to the fish. The pain in his backside was too intense for him to try crawling, let alone standing and walking. He yelped when a particularly sharp rock tore through the skin of his belly; he lowered his head, neck muscles protesting, to see the damage. It was barely a scratch, a single drop of blood appearing on its edge.

He lowered his head further, letting it touch the ground as despair started taking over.

It was too much. There was no safety there, and even when he tried to follow the kraken's demands, the environment seemed to be against him.

He let out a sob as he raised his head again and kept moving towards the fish. They'd both stopped moving now, and the only thought in his mind was that that was good, because he barely had the strength to fight a wriggling fish while trying to eat it. He grabbed one, then blinked as his eyes focused slowly. He looked around; how was he supposed to sit? His backside hurt, his sides wouldn't be comfortable enough for eating - and he was sure he could feel the bones there more prominently by now - standing up was out of the question...

He took one long, cold breath and sighed. To hell with it.

As he was, lying on his stomach, supported on his elbows, he dipped his head and took a bite.

And nearly threw up.

He felt the bile again in his mouth, tasting more sour than he was used to, and he pushed his fist against his lips.

Swallow. Swallow.

He did, though a pained whimper left him.

There was no part of that feeling that would classify as relief, not by a long shot. Tears filled his eyes, and a lump appeared in his throat.

He looked at the fish in front of him through his blurry vision. He had to push the thought of what the hell he was resorting to away; he had to pacify the beast that was keeping him there.

He had to keep eating.

He took another bite, squeezing his eyes shut as he struggled to swallow through the lump in his throat.

Each bite could mean less pain for that day, he thought as he brought the fish back to his trembling lips.

One disgusting bite for a more peaceful day.

He almost vomited three times by the time he decided to quit. It was no good eating the bloody thing if he was just going to throw it back up and rob himself of more water. He dropped it without even a second look at it and collapsed on the rock, trying to calm his breathing as well as his mind.

He had listened. He had obeyed, the best he could at that state.

The kraken didn't make any sound, and Killian could feel his muscles relax, finally if he-

A metallic sound right next to him made him jump - a move that surprised him. Was he already getting some strength back?

Killian focused; the kraken had simply brought one water bucket to him. He looked at it with disdain; the movement had caused its contents to stir again, but hopefully the other bucket would be usable enough. Grunting, he started dragging himself to it, and indeed, even with the few bites he'd taken, he was already feeling stronger.

Perhaps he had chances of escaping, after all.

Reaching the other bucket, he couldn't raise himself too high without having to support himself on his knees. He sighed; he was already pushing the limits so far, one could say that they weren't even there anymore. Grabbing the rim of the bucket, he tilted it towards him, and he let the water flow out of it as he sipped as much as he could, before he felt like gagging again.

Moaning as he swallowed the last sip, he wasn't feeling his thirst was quenched at all, but he was already tasting too much mud. Lying back down, he rolled the bucket over, letting its semi-solid contents drop into the sea.

The kraken didn't leave him waiting, though it did pat his head softly with a small tentacle. It then grabbed the buckets and left.

Killian raised his head and looked; the beast was big enough for him to spot where it was, and the light was falling at the right angle for him to see where it got out from.

His whimpering now becoming more desperate, he threw himself into the water. A cry nearly erupted from his throat as the salt burned at his wounds. He was grabbing at the rock again, waiting for the pain to pass.

It wouldn't pass completely, he thought as tears filled up his eyes again.

No more waiting, then.

He moaned weakly with every move of his tired limbs as he swam to the edge of the cave where the kraken had - probably - gotten out from. The light still seemed to be falling from the correct angle, he was sure he could see an opening somewhere below.

He looked up, through the opening higher still.

He had to try something. For whatever reason, he couldn't be found. The longer he stayed in there, the more dangerous it got for him, and the kraken could probably kill him at any time; he had no way of knowing when it would be bored of him and simply rip him apart.

He shivered at the thought. He couldn't take it anymore.

Now or never, he thought, took a deep breath, and dived in.

The water was still blurry, but Killian could make out the sunbeam clear. His legs were so weak, he had to push at the rock next to him to submerge.

The light was coming closer. He would soon have to wait until the water dragged him up and he would be free once again.

Just a little closer.

A tiny, surprised sound left him when his hand grabbed an edge; he was nearly out! He pushed himself down, over the opening, and into wild, freezing water.

There was no buoyancy. The currents were too strong, pushing him and spinning him around. His limbs didn't feel as if they belonged to him anymore, he was just a piece of the ocean being carried with the flow.

He saw bubbles leave his mouth and being carried away, before he realized that was his last breath.

His throat burned. His body swayed, limp. His vision darkened.

_I'm sorry._

* * *

Dizziness. Something hard hitting his side. Still darkness. A vice around his chest. Then fire burning through his throat.

Moans and gasps coming from his mouth. More fire. His head spinning. The vice around his chest squeezing harder. Screams of pain silenced by the water still in his lungs.

A circle of pain and fire.

Even after the water had left his lungs, he was still limp on the rocks, moaning with every broken breath.

Nothing mattered now.

He had failed.

His last thought, before the kraken pulled his legs apart again, was that it was a worse failure than actually drowning.

Before, he was at the mercy of soulless water.

Now, he was at the mercy - or lack thereof - of a conscious, sadistic beast.

A beast that knew every way to make him scream.

* * *

There was no more sleep. There was only darkness and agony.

Killian was currently in agony, wrapped in the beast's tentacles, this time just a bit too tight wound around him.

Not that he would be able to move if the hold was more relaxed. The kraken hadn't bothered retreating its penetrating tentacle, and it had slept with it still inside him. The slightest twitch from him brought focus on that.

A part of him hoped that the prolonged connection would be toxic for him. He wished for a quick death, perhaps if it stayed inside him for that long, his body would give up already.

Maybe, if he let out all of his limited breath, the kraken would automatically squeeze harder, and then he wouldn't be able to breathe, and he would suffocate. That would probably be faster.

He wished for the strength to resist during the violation. Maybe that would hurt him more, make him bleed, hopefully to death.

He spent the entire night desperate for something to kill him, and he wasn't surprised that the exact moment the kraken woke up, it started thrusting inside him again. He was completely limp and numb now, he could barely feel anything.

So much from dying from resisting.

Moving to eat and drink was out of the question, and he wanted to cry at the thought that dehydration would take days to kill him, especially if the kraken found a way to force water down his throat.

He resorted himself to closing his eyes. One less difference between darkness and agony.

It could be either a nightmare or reality, the times he felt the tentacles reach inside him from either or both sides. He tried to stop breathing, to get as much of the tentacle down his throat so that he would choke. No such luck.

His eyes didn't open.

* * *

It was getting colder. He was trembling whole, his teeth chattering.

He found himself wishing for the kraken's hold, for its tentacles to be around him, inside him, to keep him warm.

But through his still closed eyes, he could tell it was nighttime, yet the kraken wasn't holding him.

The cave was silent, and cold, and lonely.

When he stopped trembling, he felt a smile pull at his cracked lips.

It was coming. Hypothermia had settled in.

Soon, he'd be at peace.

"Killian!"

His smile fell; no, that sound, that voice... it was wrong here.

A splashing sound.

"Emma! Wait!"

That other voice; they shouldn't be here... at least, not as worried as they sounded.

Unless he was truly in Hell this time.

"I'm coming, Killian!"

Yes, surely in Hell. Being tormented with Emma's worried voice, trying to help him but knowing she wouldn't. That seemed fitting.

"I'm coming. I'm here!"

Then something lifted him. The kraken, dragging him back to life, to torment him even more.

"Killian! It's me, Emma! Look at me!"

Listen to Emma's desperate voice in Hell, or stay alive in the kraken's hold.

If it was Hell either way, he'd rather the one where there would be a reminder, though tormented, of the happiness his mangled soul managed to find.

The kraken shook him, as if trying to wake him up. He frowned; what good would that do?

"Open your eyes."

No. He was still trying to let the darkness take him.

"Look at me, please, Killian."

Her voice...

Just a moment, he wanted to tell her. I'll die soon, and I'll see you clearly.

Warmth. Something soft covering him.

Soft? That wasn't the Hell he'd imagine.

"Please, look at me."

Emma's broken voice.

"Open your eyes, my boy."

Nemo.

"We're here. You're safe."

Safe? No, no, he couldn't be safe in Hell. And if it was that for any reason he was in Heaven, he'd be meeting Liam, and Milah, and his mother... not painful reminders of the people he was leaving behind.

A strong, but not painful, hold on his shoulder. It shook him too a bit.

"Just for one moment. Open your eyes."

He was confused. Perhaps it had already happened, and they simply waited for him to open his eyes so that they could start his tortures.

At least he would see them.

He opened his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last part is from Emma’s POV.

Emma froze as Killian seemed to realize what was going on. His eyes barely widened, but he looked at her as if she was the last person he expected to see.

"I'm here," she said, stroking his hair. It was damp and felt stiff and coarse.

Tears filled his eyes at the gesture. He'd told her before how he loved that, and she hoped it was grounding him now, bringing him closer to reality.

"Emma?" he breathed so softly and so low she wasn't sure she had heard it.

She smiled, still brushing her fingers through his hair. "It's me. I'm here. You'll be alright."

He looked at her for a moment, then moved his arm from under the blanket, but couldn't move his hand past her shoulder. She dragged him higher, closer to her chest, and Nemo helped him wrap his arm around her. His arm was nearly limp, but he was leaning into her.

"Why didn't you come for me?" he whimpered against her.

The pain and worry of the last couple days were nothing to the heartbreak she felt now at the tone of his voice. Nemo covered him again with the blanket, which had fallen a bit from his movement, but Emma had already seen everything; the suction marks, the scratches on his torso, the bruises, God, the bruises...

The blood between his legs. The proof that he had relieved himself right there. The vomit on his beard.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, too shocked to say anything, to explain that there was a magical barrier that hadn't allowed them to cross, that she could hear his screams from inside the cave, that she'd spent all these days trying to break the barrier, that with the help of Regina, Zelena, Alice, Elsa, and the fairies, she'd barely managed to open a hole just wide enough for one of Nemo's mini submarine things to cross, that the others were still there, ready to open a hole again for them to go back.

"I'll take him," Nemo said, but her arms were stuck tight around Killian's visibly thinner body. There was a mangled raw fish a bit to the side. Had he attempted to eat that?

"Let me, sweetheart." Nemo said again, softly tugging at her hands.

Emma relaxed her hold just a bit, but a whimper from Killian had her grabbing at him again.

"Don't," Killian breathed.

"I'm here, I'm not leaving you," she said, then looked up at Nemo. "Perhaps I can just transport him to the submarine?"

"Are you sure you've got enough magic for that? We still have the barrier..."

She kept brushing at Killian's hair. "At least he'll be somewhere warm and safe until our magic fills up."

Nemo just nodded.

She still had to struggle; the barrier had zapped enough of her magic to exhaust her, but they were immediately back in the mini submarine, with Nemo quickly closing the hatch and preparing to submerge. Going in, she'd been sitting on the seat next to Nemo. Now she was sitting down on the tiny space behind the seats, Killian still clutching at her like a lifeline.

He was so cold, he was still shivering, and though she had dived into the cold water herself in a hurry to get to him, she and her wet clothes were still noticeably warmer than he was. She held the back of his head, softly pressing it against her chest. She was nearly shaking herself; she knew it wasn't just his physical state that scared her.

"You'll be alright," she whispered to him.

It took them longer to manage to pass through the barrier this time, Emma's mind too preoccupied with her trembling husband on her arms to focus properly on her dwindling magic.

She sighed tiredly when they made it through. She wouldn't have the energy to heal him.

They reached the shore, Nemo and then David offering to get Killian out, but her arms stayed locked around him. It was only when she looked up to see two paramedics standing over her in the small space that she relaxed her grasp. Killian whined, but she only leaned forward and caressed his face.

"I'll be right here, I promise. Would you like to sleep? Just for a bit?"

"Don't leave..." was all he said.

"I won't. I promise you." She leaned forward to kiss his hair, ignoring how rough and salty they felt. She then nodded to the paramedics, who managed to sedate him while Emma was still cradling him.

And then she had to let him go, resorting to just holding his hand.

The rest of the night became a blur, as the ambulance drove to the hospital, where doctors and nurses took him and examined, prodded and hooked him up to IVs and machines, talking about his status and state and recuperation.

He was going to be okay, they said. He had three cracked ribs, massive bruises on his torso and ankles, an irritated throat, and he was dehydrated, fatigued and slightly hypothermic.

And he'd had anal bleeding and infection.

Though every thing the doctors told her shook her, it was the very last that had her mute with shock. She was in his room, holding onto his hand, the skin rough. They hadn't yet washed him, too mindful of his injuries and putting priority on stabilizing his temperature. It was just then that she remembered she was also covered in salt, her clothes still slightly damp from her dive, but she couldn't care less.

He started moving just a few minutes after they'd settled; his first move was to grasp at her hand before he even opened his eyes. He whined softly.

"Killian," she said. "It's alright, I'm here."

She reached out to touch his cheek, but then he opened his eyes and cringed away, and she snatched her hand back instinctively.

"Sorry." She wrapped her hand over his, which was still grasping her other hand.

"I'm cold," he croaked, then licked his lips and swallowed hard.

"I can ask for another blanket," she said, looking at the door, then at the nurse button. She couldn't imagine leaving him now. "Maybe something warm to drink?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he looked at her for a few silent seconds, then said, "Where were you?"

This question was more quiet, more controlled, so much unlike the desperate outburst he'd had as soon as he realized he'd been back in her arms. Still, the reminder made her stomach twist into knots. "There was a magical barrier around the cave. We couldn't cross, but I... I heard you..."

His expression darkened, but he seemed to be waiting for more.

"I had to gather as many magic users as there were quickly available. Breaking through the barrier took so much of our magic, I can't heal you, I'm sorry..." She bit her lip and lifted her hand to touch his cheek again, but saw how he recoiled and let it drop on the bed.

"The... the beast?"

"We only saw it when it came out from the cave. I don't think my magic has any effect on it, so we- we had to wait until it left, before we came in to get you out."

"So it's still out there?" He breathed in uneasily and pursed his lips.

"I won't let it harm you again.” She could barely think of the way it had used to harm him. “I'll... I'll find a protective spell, so that it can't cross into Storybrooke, or come any close to your ship."

She was getting desperate. She stood up and leaned slightly towards him.

"It may hurt someone else."

"We'll tell them to stay away from water. Don't worry about anyone else now."

She leaned in closer, longing to hold him close, but he winced and recoiled back into the mattress.

"Emma..."

"You'll be alright. When my magic comes back, I'll heal you. Whatever that thing did..."

"It's not what it did." His voice sounded broken, and tears appeared in his eyes. "I mean, it is, but..." He shook his head. "I gave up. I wanted to die."

Emma's blood froze. She knew him well enough to know how hard it was for him to give up, how far he must've been pushed to reach that point.

"It's okay," she said. "We'll- we'll figure things out."

"Emma, what it did to me..."

A sob broke through her. "Can I hold you?"

As if on cue, he started sobbing too. He just nodded.

She lay carefully at the edge of the bed, on her side, and brought her arm around him, leaning her head on his shoulder. They were both sobbing now, and with her arm against his chest, she could feel how much he was trembling.

"I know," she whispered. "The doctors told me... but you don't have to say anything, if you don't want to. I... I failed at saving you, before it took you. But I promise, I won't let anything else harm you. I promise."

"I'm sorry."

"What?" She raised her head to look at him. His face was devastated. "What for?"

"For giving up. For not believing in you..." His voice trailed off, and he sniffled.

"No, no, don't do this now," she said, lying back down. "You were... don't... don't think about this now. We're together, and you're safe now. That's all that matters now."

"Safe," he whispered so softly she wasn't sure if he had intended to say it out loud.

She tightened her hold just so, remembering the bruises hidden by the blanket. And the suction marks, a horrible voice in her head reminded her. She sobbed silently. It felt like days ago that she'd found him passed out on the damp rock, naked, bleeding, with so many marks covering his body as if he'd come out of a horror film.

It didn't feel real. But she knew it was, and that in more ways than she was willing to imagine, Killian would be reminded of that for a long time.

She leaned her head closer to his and closed her eyes. If she could just help him relax and rest for now. 

Tomorrow would be the time to deal with everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Thank you for following this little self-indulgence of mine <3


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